


Annen i-Estel Edain

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Minor Angst, Missing Scene, Palantír(i), Realization, Return of the King, Sindarin, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26022052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: Aragorn grabs the palantír from Pippin in a desperate move to save his friend. Of course, now Isildur's Heir is stuck on a direct line to the Dark Lord himself.Maybe it will be the catalyst needed for a decision that he has been avoiding for decades.
Kudos: 14





	Annen i-Estel Edain

**Author's Note:**

> So this is absolutely not what I envisioned my night involving. I was watching Return of the King with my brother earlier, and during the scene with Pippin and the palantír I basically went hey, Aragorn grabs it for a good few seconds, what if he had his own conversation with Sauron?  
> The scene in the movie where Aragorn accepts Andúril seems a little out of the blue sometimes. I wish we had a more in-depth look at this version of him that doesn't immediately accept his status as Isildur's Heir and what it takes for him to accept that (It might just be the phrase "Arwen is dying" but my aroace ass won't accept that as a full explanation, it needs more of a catalyst?)  
> And this happened.

“He is here,” Legolas whispers, and Aragorn is suddenly able to sense it too.

The great eye’s gaze echoes through the air around them, a cold chill through warm blood. Aragorn whirls, almost tripping over his feet in his haste. Legolas is far more graceful behind him as they sprint through Meduseld’s halls, dashing for the one thing they both know could draw the Dark Lord’s gaze. They are two of the very few that know what Gandalf picked up in the ruins of Isengard, the palantír, the seeing-stone with a direct link to the enemy. Who could have triggered it? Surely none of the Rohirrim would have been fool enough to hold it, and the Hobbits had been warned away.

The two exchange a glance as the feeling gets stronger, pressing down on their chests, making it hard to draw breath. The Lord of Mordor’s fell stare worms through Edoras. It is a growing doom, the evil presence piercing even the strongest of hearts. Aragorn throws the door of the room he’d left Gandalf in to a harrowing sight.

Merry is screaming, and Gandalf is stirring, horror in his gaze, and Legolas is frantically moving behind him, but all Aragron has eyes for is Pippin. The young Hobbit writhes on the floor, his hands clawed around the palantír like they are covered in mortar. It is glowing, a cold yellow so unlike the glimmering gold of Edoras’s halls, the vision of an eye visible to the Heir of Gondor even without holding it.

Aragorn acts without thinking, reaching out to save his friend so shortly reunited. He grabs the palantír, ripping it out of Pippin’s hands.

He has a moment to think this may not have been his wisest idea before he feels the dark tendrils of Sauron’s presence flicking at his mind.

_ Another…  _ the voice echoes through his mind, searching, wondering,  _ Who… are you… _

_ One who will not give you what you seek. _

The voice laughs.  _ All will give me what I seek. _

It burns, fire roaring through his mind from the great eye. It takes all of his strength to force it back, to keep it from prying at the secrets the enemy cannot know. He locks his knowledge of the Ring away behind walls of stone, his heritage is wound around a mithril sword and stowed below the ground he stands on.

Sauron screams, the harsh sounds of Black Speech slamming at the walls Aragorn holds up. He knows, distantly, that the palantíri will only truly answer to him, that Sauron is straining to control this one with the blood of Númenor holding it. Maybe that is what has him howling, forcing Aragorn further and further into his own mind.

He’s not sure if he can hold this. Isildur’s Heir may hold the right to control the palantír, but the Dark Lord’s mind is stronger than a thousand men. Even if it costs him his life, he cannot let Sauron gain the secrets he keeps.

_ WHO… ARE… YOU….  _ the voice screams, furious at its advances being rebuffed.

Aragorn feels a thought unbidden slip through his defenses, a phrase spoken so long ago by one dear:

_ Ónen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim. _

The voice fades, the Sindarin words grating against its evil mind, sending it flailing and giving Aragorn an opening. He wrenches control back for just a moment, flinging his senses out to find the information he knows they need. 

A white tree burns.

_ Hope… you shall have no HOPE! The line of Elendil is GONE. The age of men is over. Arnor is gone, Gondor will fall, and the rest of the lowly kingdoms with it. _

The tree burns in Aragorn’s mind, the vision seared into his senses like he was truly standing in front of it. Minas Tirith is in shambles around it, the Steward dead and the King never arrived. Gondor falls, taking Rohan and the last remnants of Arnor with it. 

And in that moment, he makes a decision.

_ Then we shall make it a fall that will be sung in the halls of the Valar for eternity.  _

_ Fool… you have no hope. _

_ Annen i-estel Edain, ú-chíbitha estel anim. _

Sauron screams, a wail that could be heard from Valinor itself.

Aragorn wakes to Legolas shaking his shoulder. The elf breathes a sigh of relief, moving his hand to help Aragorn sit up. “You are awake, Mellon nin!”

“Indeed,” he manages, mind still whirling. Aragorn spies the cloth Gandalf threw over the palantír, grateful that he will not have to deal with it again himself.

The wizard in question moves over to him, leaving a shaking Pippin in Merry’s careful arms. “Aragorn.”

“I did not tell him anything about the Ring.”

Gandalf squints at him for a moment, then leans back with that odd look he sometimes gets like he knows more about you than anyone else ever will and is pleased with whatever he’s discovered. “Then what  _ did _ you tell him?”

“I give hope to men, I will keep none for myself.”

Legolas gives him an odd look, but Gandalf just nods. “You have far more than you believe, Estel.”

“Aragorn? What do you refer to?”

Gandalf stands and pats Legolas on the shoulder before Aragorn can come up with an answer. “He means, my friend, that the flag of the tree and seven stars shall fly over Minas Tirith once again.”

**Author's Note:**

> it's been so long since I went through my Sindarin notes it was actually nice to do the changes to the phrase for Aragorn's repetition. The first Sindarin phrase is Gilrain (Aragorn's mom)'s linnon: _I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I have kept no hope for myself_  
>  The second is Aragorn's own spin on that, a kinda sad version, but I think it's what he believes at this point: _I give hope to men; I will keep none for myself._


End file.
